


Space is Cold

by TheRevanchist (LadyoftheNight)



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9159142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheNight/pseuds/TheRevanchist
Summary: The Exile is down after Korriban, Visas and Atton want to change that





	

            The _Ebon Hawk_ was cold. Granted, most older ships in space got a little frostier than newer models, but this was a chill that went beyond simple temperature.

 

            Since leaving Korriban, there had been only silence from the Exile. They’d clearly been through something in the caves, but they had claimed they needed time for meditation and practically locked themselves in the hold.

            Inside, the Exile was actually attempting to meditate, but found it incredibly difficult. The memory of ‘apathy is death’ and the forced fight with the apparitions of their friends was too much. They could barely look anyone in the eyes. Especially not Atton or Visas.

 

            Elsewhere on the ship, the Miraluka was struggling with her own meditation. She, of all the Jedi trainees, had experienced the Force the longest. If she could not figure out the Exile’s predicament alone, then no one could. But perhaps she did not need to try on her own.

            She found herself wandering toward the cockpit, some part of her mind recognizing that, while he may have been new to the Force, Atton knew the Exile better than anyone except for Kreia.

            “Atton,” she called from the door, unwilling to disrupt potentially important flying. No need for another crash.

            “Yeah?” His voice sounded moodier than usual, an indication that he too felt their teacher’s pain.

            “They need us.” She drifted to his side, one hand drifting to grip his shoulder. Almost instinctually, he leaned into the touch. Though the two of them had not been particularly close, the close contact felt…natural. Like they were supposed to be connected.

            But both of them realized they were missing a piece.

            “We’re just students. What could we even do?” The pilot shook his head and adjusted his posture away from Visas, as though avoiding the connection would make it disappear.

            “We must be there for them.”

            “They said they wanted to be alone. They’ve barely looked at me since Korriban.” Visas felt his shoulder tense. As much as Atton thought he was unreadable, she realized while his endless game of Pazaak went on in his head, his body was fairly obvious.

            “Atton,” she repeated, her tone only slightly more forceful.

            The answering sigh and shrug told her she had won. Often people attempted to overly vocalize with her, as though they needed to work around the inherent Miraluka blindness. A few of her new companions, however, understood her much better, and allowed themselves to just be them. No need to speak what a body could simply tell.

            “Alright, I’ve got a Pazaak deck here, I think I stashed some nice Tarisian ale under my seat-yeah, got that. What else?”

            “What else?” His question, actually his whole line of speech, caught her off guard. Why was he finding these random things?

            “Oh, huh. See, when people try to comfort others, they usually bring them something. Like alcohol, or games, or…comfort food?” He was clearly just as out of his element as she was now, but Visas liked the idea.

            “There is a particularly soft blanket Mira has been hiding from everyone,” she offered.

            “That’s a good idea. Then maybe…since they like to tinker, we could grab some of Bao-dur’s spare parts.” Now Atton was getting excited, which brought a smile to Visas’ face.

            “Excellent. We will gather these items and meet by the hold.” With that order, she left.

 

            Atton gripped the Pazaak cards, ale, and bag of random parts he supposed he’d technically stolen from the Zabrak. He only felt mildly guilty; after all, it was for a good cause.

            For some strange reason, he found himself really caring if the Exile was okay. He also found himself somehow glad Visas had come to him with the idea of comfort. Visas, instead of anyone else. Emotions were weird. He didn’t want to deal with them. Not that these emotions were so terrible. They could just get complicated.

            As Visas sauntered through the hall gripping her bundle of ‘make the Exile feel better’ stuff, Atton wondered if complicated was really so terrible.

 

            Rather than knock, the pilot who had decided to acquaint himself with every nook and cranny of this ship overrode the lock and let himself and his partner and crime in.

            He was immediately glad they’d come.

            The Exile was sitting in a corner, practically curled into a ball, crying. This was a sight, and feeling for the Miraluka, that was completely new. They’d always been the strong leader, guiding them in the ways of the Force and through the galaxy. Korriban had broken them somehow, and that broke the hearts of Atton and Visas.

            “Hello,” they said, their voice echoing the shattered feeling inside.

            “Listen, you don’t have to talk about whatever happened, we’re just here to hang out. Play some cards, get warm, get distracted, get hammered, whatever you need.” He carefully arranged his items next to them while Visas stepped around and draped the blanket over their shoulders.

            “If you should want to talk, we could also do that.” Atton felt a slight twinge of disapproval from Visas, but just rolled his eyes. Humor was how he dealt with these things.

            “Thanks you two. I think I do want to talk, but later. Korriban was bad.” They shook their head and grabbed a couple of the stolen spare bits to fiddle with.

            “I’ve never played three-way Pazaak. Might be an excellent time to try out Nar Shaddaa rules.” For the Exile’s benefit, he winked, and was surprised to feel mirth coming from both of them in the Force, though neither audibly laughed.

            “Just Republic Senate rules, please. I find myself all out of credits.” As always, Visas was full of surprises, since it certainly hadn’t been Darth Whispers who’d taught her the card game.

            “You don’t need credits for _real_ Nar Shaddaa rules,” the Exile remarked, drawing sharp breathes and then shocked laughter from the other two. “But maybe we should save that for a later date.”

            “So tomorrow we strip for each other, I’m excited. For now, boring old Republic Senate rules. Then we talk, cry, hug, and get sloshed.” The pilot glanced around, waiting for approval.

            “A fine plan,” Visas responded, a wide grin on her face.

            “I very much agree,” the Exile giggled. Like full on, straight up giggling. Which prompted more actual giggles from the Miraluka. Which somehow got Atton to join in.

 

            Eventually the giggles turned to tears, and the Exile pulled them both into a tight embrace.

            “Don’t ever leave me,” they whispered.

            Both Atton and Visas gripped them a little tighter then, thinking of Revan and Malak and just how abandoned the Exile had been.

            “Wasn’t planning on it.”

            “Never.”

           

            The hug lasted for a while, and even when it broke all three managed to wrap themselves together under the (extra soft) blanket.

            “Pazaak won’t be easy sitting like this,” the Exile broke the silence, but made no attempt to move.

            “Nothing is easy with you,” Visas responded, a clear joke that drew the last of their giggles to the air.

            “If anyone can figure out how to do it, it’ll be us.” Atton grinned and started dealing the cards.


End file.
